


Night Out

by RausieStone



Series: New York Winter [1]
Category: Call Me By Your Name (2017)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, CMBYN - Freeform, Declarations Of Love, Friends to Lovers, Kinda AU, Kissing, M/M, New York City, Professor Oliver, Rating: PG13, Student Elio, eighties vibes, same timing as the movie (not the book), winter of 1986/1987, years after the movie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-01
Updated: 2018-08-01
Packaged: 2019-06-20 02:42:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 10,718
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15524298
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RausieStone/pseuds/RausieStone
Summary: Norah is the best friend we all wish we had sometimes and Elio’s got her. Though, for once, he’s going to wish he didn’t for a whole night. But that doesn’t matter, because soon his life will finally be perfect and he won’t have to wish for anything anymore.





	1. Preface

It’s been three and a half years since Elio and Oliver wrote the words they couldn’t say out loud on paper. Shoved, back and forth, underneath the door that separated them. They would meet at midnight, it had said. They would finally end their week of unbearable silence, it had meant. They would at long last do _something_ , it had implied.

But midnight came too late. Fate struck and all the impossible things that might finally happen, didn’t. A telegram had come and Oliver was bid home immediately. There had been a death in the family and no amount of summer work in Italy was more important than being home right now.

And so, the summer love story that had seemed ‘meant to be’ turned into a tale of ‘what could have been, but would never be’.

Oliver did write. And Elio wrote back. But soon it became painfully clear to him that their romantic love would never have the room to grow beyond that summer, beyond Italy. And as it had never really had the time or opportunity to plant real and sturdy roots, it would just become ‘that one thing we never talk about’.

They did become more than just acquiesces. On paper a beautiful and invested friendship formed. So when they ended up living in the same city, they started meeting each other. But just as friends. Of course.

Because by then they’d turned into the classic tale of ‘let’s never try anything romantic because it could possibly ruin this dear friendship’. Total bullshit, of course. But they were both pigheaded and uncertain boys (yes, boys not men – not in this regard) who each had their own reasons to believe that it would never work. That they would never be good enough for the other. And so their pining for each other lasted three and a half long years. All through Elio and Oliver both moving to New York City. All through Elio and Oliver getting accepted at the same college – like that wasn’t fate… – one as a student and the other as a teacher. Thank heavens for totally different programs though, so Elio could and would never end up in one of Oliver’s classes. All through Oliver’s short lived marriage and disheartening divorce too. Yet still, to this day, they’d never mentioned their agreement to meet at midnight or their kisses at Monet’s Berm.

And one person in particular – not to even mention Elio’s parents – had completely had it with this unbelievable stupidity: Elio’s best friend Norah.

She was getting completely fed up with Elio’s cowardice and doubts. If he wasn’t going to do anything to change his position – and Oliver apparently wasn’t either – then she would just have to do it herself. A plan had been taking form in her head for a long while. Now she only needed the opportunity and bravery to act on it. Bravery, because for all her bluster and brilliant ideas, she did out of the boxing _thinking_ better than out of the box _doing_. And this plan was her most nowhere-near-the-box-and-outside-of-all-civilized-boundaries-someone-could-have yet. So even though acting on it would ensure success – she was convinced – it would also demand a risky move from her.

But she was up for it.   


	2. one

It’s a typical Thursday evening and once again they’re hanging around Elio’s apartment as all students in the city are going out. Norah is bored and gloomy, with good reason. But Elio tries to ignore her anyway ‘cause he’s working on his latest school assignment.

Meanwhile his roommate Mandy is out doing the weekly grocery shopping. So it’s just the two of them in the apartment. Which also means he is the only one there who can entertain her.

‘’But I’m sad and single now,’’ she complains, as she half-sits half-lies down on Elio’s oversized desk. She prods her foot into his shoulder once again, trying to get more of his attention. ‘’You’re my best friend so you have to cheer me up.’’

‘’No, I don’t.’’ Elio tries to shrug off her foot. ‘’He was an asshole, you should be glad to be rid of him.’’

Now this actually got her annoyed for real. How dare he, of all people, judge someone’s choice of partner. ‘’He wasn’t that bad!’’ she exclaims. Which was really her weakest defensive point, but the first one that slipped from her mouth.

And Elio knows it, so he dives right in. Accusing tone and incredulous look and all. ‘’When you told him our history in confidence he asked you why you were so stupid to sleep with a fag. And when you broke up the first time – which, honestly, should have been the last – he told everyone you were a slut.’’

‘’Okay, okay, you’ve made your point.’’

‘’Remind me again why you got into a relationship with him in the first place? You don’t even believe in monogamy! You only did it because he wanted it. That should have been your first sign.’’

‘’Hey!’’ she calls out disapprovingly. ‘’Good sex goes a long way, okay.’’

‘’Yeah, yeah, whatever.’’ He says dismissively. Turning his focus back to his notebook, writing down the rest of his music.

In the corner of his eye he sees Norah get up from his desk and crash down on the couch on the other side of the room. He notices it, but doesn’t react to it. In fact, when he’s done writing the remaining lines of music he picks up his Walkman to turn over the tape for the music on the other side, his every intention to continue listening and transcribing. Only at the last second he stops himself. His finger hovers over the play button as he pays mind to the heavy silence in the room. With an instant of thoughtlessness and a burst of energy he pushes himself away from his desk. His chair turns him automatically in the right direction and he’s quickly faced with his best friend solemnly staring out of the window. She’s not crying, but there is definitely a sadness about her. Something Elio can’t stand to look at for any amount of time.

She doesn’t notice him get up and walk over to her. She just keeps staring out of that ridiculously small window of his typical New York apartment – crammed in every way.

He sits down next to her and bumps her shoulder with his own. ‘’Hey,’’ he whispers softly. ‘’I’m sorry for being an ass. You can get sad all you want about that idiot. I mean, god knows I’ve cried about much worse.’’

That has her smiling again. Though her breath hitches with unshed tears. ‘’That’s true,’’ she whispers, as she lays down her head on his shoulder, melting into him as he wraps an arm around her.

‘’Remember Ricardo?’’ he continues, grasping at strings to lighten the mood.

It works. She snickers. ‘’You mean, mister-I-dress-and-talk-like-a-nineteenth-century-duke-and-that-makes-me-better-than-everyone-else?’’

Elio rolls his eyes. ‘’Yeah. But to be fair, it actually suited him.’’

‘’That’s just because his personality was as bad and stuck up as his fashion sense.’’

‘’Okay, okay, yeah even for a first boyfriend it was pretty bad,’’ he admits grudgingly. ‘’Remember Becca?’’ he continues quickly, before he’ll have to delve into the whole ‘I got dumped by the biggest asshole* on the planet because I wouldn’t bottom for him’ conversation again (*pun definitely intended).

Norah laughs, with more humor now. ‘’You and Becca… Did you really call that a relationship?’’

Yeah, she has a point there. ‘’Guess not.’’ Damn, he’s terrible at relationships, he realizes. ‘’Maybe I should just give up on them all together. I’m not getting any better at them anyway.’’ He says, sounding more earnest and solemn than he’d intended to.

Norah lifts her head at that. Slowly she raises her hand and rests it on his cheek, the one furthest away from her. When Elio keeps staring at a fixed point in front of him, not wanting to meet her eyes, she puts some pressure on it. Before he knows it she’s pulled him in and he’s defenseless under that piercing gaze that knows him all too well. It cuts right through all the bullshit and pretense; the exaggerated indifference he puts up to not have to appear vulnerable.

‘’No, that’s not it,’’ she says just as earnestly. _How did the tables between them change so quickly? Why is she trying to make_ him _feel better now?_ Well, really, Elio knows he’s an hopeless case to begin with. So he supposes he could use all the pep talks he can get.

He tries to laugh, but it comes out strangled a bit. In the end it just sounds very pathetic. ‘’What is it then?’’ The moment the question has left his lips he regrets it. He doesn’t know exactly how or why, but he can feel in his gut that he’s not going to like the answer Norah is about to give.

‘’Well,’’ she starts, as she blinks and stares at her lap for a second. She mulls over her answer, choosing her words carefully. ‘’I, for one, believe that you’re just trying it with the wrong people.’’

‘’Yeah, yeah, enough about my bad social skills and always falling for the wrong people. I know my type is terrible.’’

‘’I’m not talking about your ‘type’,’’ she says agitatedly, making actual quote marks at the word type. Elio’s stomach does another twirl. He knows exactly what’s coming next, even though he’s still, to the last second, convincing himself it won’t be that. ‘’I’m talking about _the one_ for you.’’ She continues and Elio has to laugh, though it’s really not funny at all. It’s the last thing that makes Norah snap. ‘’I’m talking about Oliver, okay!’’

Elio feels the name like an actual knife being thrown at his chest. He has to look away. Now.

It’s silent for a long moment. Elio feeling too much emotion to speak – anger, grieve, frustration – and Norah waiting patiently for him to figure it out. Or maybe to just realize he can’t and should just accept them all.

When he does speak, his voice is barely more than whisper. ‘’He and I do not belong together.’’

 And there goes the last string of Norah’s patience. ‘’Oh, come on! Even your parents said you’re being a complete fool when it comes to him.’’

‘’What do you mean? My parents told you… what… You talked about me and him to my parents?!’’ He exclaims, still careful to avoid saying his name aloud. Talking about him will give Norah exactly what she wants. Better to be angry.

‘’They were the ones who kept pushing for more info. I just told them Oliver had moved to New York after his divorce and you were talking to him again.’’

‘’Why would you do that?’’

‘’Because me and your mom discuss everything always, that’s just how it goes. This is nothing new, don’t pretend you’re clueless.’’

‘’I can’t believe you right now!’’

‘’Well, I can’t believe you and Oliver either but I’m not yelling to you about it.’’ Well, actually, she was.

‘’What are you talking about? …believing me and – and, you know who, about what?!’’ He can’t even say the name when he tries. Not when talking like this. Not when he felt like he was being turned inside out by a hyper inquisitive gaze.

Norah’s sharp eyes zeroed in on him the moment he stuttered. Clumsily tripping over the name like a hopeless and utterly infatuated teenager. Which she knows he still is really, since time had pretty much stood still for them when their would-be relationship had been forced to an abrupt hold before it even really started.

‘’Oh honey,’’ she woos, overdoing the motherly tone on purpose. She pulls a hand through his messy curls. He turns away. Her hand slides down his face as she lets him. At the last moment she grabs hold of his ear though. She flicks it quickly and painlessly.

They know each other so well that they can sense exactly how far they can take it – what you can and cannot do to the other and when. ‘’You can’t even think about him without either creaming your pants or look like someone maliciously killed your favorite puppy.’’ Okay, maybe she was pushing the boundaries a little too much this time   .

Elio pushes her from his space altogether, starting to stand up from the couch. He’s had it with her, that much is clear. The one glance she catches from him is filled with anger, indignation and betrayal. ‘’You make me sound like the most pathetic _child_ in the world,’’ he shoots at her while refusing to meet her eyes. Somehow, in that sentence, he makes ‘child’ sound like the most vulgar curse word in the world. And with that his sentiment becomes clear.

‘’I’m sorry. I’m not trying to. I’m just trying to make you see.’’ She takes his hand in both of hers, and he lets her. ‘’You have the chance at something wonderful here. Amazing, even. You just have to grab your chance and take it.’’ How can she make him understand? Make him see it’s worth the risk? And more importantly yet, that the risk is really not that great.

‘’You make it sound so easy,’’ he mutters.

‘’It’s not, I know it isn’t. But walking around with this feeling that you’re too scared to act on the rest of your life isn’t either.’’

‘’I don’t know,’’ he laughs humorlessly. ‘’I’ve been doing well so far.’’ He says, more to convince himself than anyone else.

Norah thinks back on the two times she’s seen Oliver, both short moments in passing. But both moments were also… _very_ educative. Especially seeing Elio in such an elated and carefree state. Unable to hide the effect Oliver’s mere presence had on him, even if he wanted to.

‘’Remember,’’ she says. ‘’I _have_ met the guy. I’ve seen you two together.’’

‘’So?’’ He retorts, managing to sound defensive and hopeful at the same time.

“So,’’ she continues, voice even, not to be derailed by his bluster. ‘’I know how you are with him _and_ how he’s with you. And I think you’re both just fooling yourselves into thinking what you share is a perfectly normal friendship and nothing more. Both too scared to take the chance.’’

‘’We’ll just have to agree to disagree then,’’ He concludes, sounding not at all as sure of himself as he would want.

With a deep, deep sigh Norah pulls Elio back into the cushions of the couch and gives him a koala sort of hug, clinging to just one side of him. ‘’You are the most stubborn person I’ve ever met.’’ She sighs again. ‘’And that just makes you really stupid sometimes.’’ Before Elio can start to protest again she adds, ‘’Let’s just stay in tonight and watch a movie.’’

For a moment Elio is silent with his mouth hanging open. He’s wrecking his brain to think of a smart and witty comeback, but he can’t find any. Having a lazy night in sounds actually pretty nice… Not to mention, he’s pretty glad she changed the subject, ‘cause deep, deep in his core he knows she’s right – about everything. And that’s just a lot of truths he isn’t ready to handle yet.

So instead of delving back into that doomed conversation he picks up his box of video tapes and hands them to her. ‘’You pick the movie, I’ll order pizza.’’

Her eyes light up at that perfect sounding deal. ‘’And ice cream!’’


	3. two

It’s Friday. Oliver’s day.

That’s how Elio has started to think of it, even though they don’t _always_ see each other on this day. But when they do meet that week, it’s always on a Friday. Always during lunch and always at the same specific off campus café. And just as the way Elio likes to think of Friday as Oliver’s day, it’s that café and one particular table that he likes to think of as _their_ spot.

He passes it intentionally sometimes when he’s just wondering through the streets of New York. On days when he’s got either too much time on his hands, or just needs to get out of his own head. _Will this be lost if I’d ever dare to make a move?_ He allows himself to wonder. _Is this what I’m risking?_ Not that he’d ever admit to himself that he was thinking of risking anything. Even though he couldn’t deny Norah’s words from the other day had had him thinking… Maybe even hoping just a tiny bit. But was he ever going to be brave enough to act on it? _That_ was the real question.

While leaving the classroom of his morning classes, he's contemplating all of this. He’s done for now and has about two hours of recess before his last two classes of the day start. He’s anxious to leave for his favorite lunch of the week as he runs down the long flights of stairs of the old university. The only thing he takes time to stop for is his mailbox in the student halls. He doesn’t expect to find anything there, but better check to be sure.

**_I’m sorry; can’t make lunch today. Meet you for drinks after my classes are done? I’ll be in my office till seven. If you don’t have time, I’ll see you next week._ **

**_O_ **

He almost rips the piece of paper in half, holding on to it so tightly. _Drinks… Friday night…_ He has to bite the inside of his cheek to keep somewhat control over the grin that’s taking over his face. He feels his heart skip a few beats and his ears whizz like he’s on an airplane that has just taken off.

He quickly grumbles the paper in his hand and shoves it in his pocket. He pushes himself away from the wall he’d been leaning against and half-leaps half-runs from the scene of the crime. In the busy hallways he has to watch his step more carefully; he keeps bumping into people who are walking _way_ too slow in front of him.

He finally makes it to the library, only to see Norah isn’t alone. His quick and erratic pace changes into something that’s more like slow-motion walking. The thought, _What do I do?_ Running again and again through his mind.

He wants to tell Norah everything so badly. Her more than anyone. Not needing to act tough and indifferent about it with her. Especially after the conversation they had last night. But, obviously, he can’t do that with others around.

‘’Hey, Elio!’’ One of Norah’s study-buddies calls out before he can make up his mind. It’s Alma – a first year who’s always shy and quiet, _until_ she sees Elio. She smiles and waves him over enthusiastically.

‘’Hi,’’ he offers her with a weak smile, only glancing at her for the shortest moment.

Right now, he only has eyes for one person. Norah looks up at him and smiles. As soon as she registers the intense gaze Elio is imploring on her though, her expression changes. She raises an eyebrow at him, the look in her eyes puzzling, as he drops down on the seat next to her.

He ignores the greetings of the rest of the group – like the self-absorbed twenty-something he is. They barely even notice; too engrossed in their own work. Even Alma is back at work, only sneaking a look at Elio every two minutes or so.

‘’Didn’t you have an… _appointment_ at lunch today?’’ Norah whispers, leaving her work for what it is.

Elio looks down, refusing to look her in the eye for fear of his grin taking over his entire face again. He can still feel the flutter in his stomach and the jump in his heartbeat very clearly. But he has to keep it together. For just a little longer.

‘’Plans have changed,’’ He murmurs while picking at the zipper of Norah’s jacket; a lame attempt to distract himself.

‘’Changed?’’ she repeats quietly, her interest definitely peaking. ‘’Not just cancelled?’’ she whispers even lower. There’s no way the others at the table can understand, or even hear what they’re talking.

‘’Nope.’’

‘’Changed to _what_?’’

Elio has to bite his lip now; a last means to keep his face from giving away too much. But he can’t control the corners of his lips any longer. They go up, up, up. Norah sees it. And he sees that she sees it. ‘’Changed to evening.’’

Now it’s Norah’s turn to hold in her enthusiasm and try to act normal. Elio can actually see the moment when the news hits her. There is one nanosecond of skepticism, but she’s looking at Elio’s face closely so it’s instantly replaced by delight. ‘’Oh. My. God. I thought it would _never_ happen.’’ She manages to sound like she’s shouting and whispering at the very same time.

Elio glances around nervously, to the others around their table. ‘’That what would happen?’’ he shoots back at her, either not understanding or not wanting to understand.

‘’ _Anything!_ Anything at all,’’ Norah retorts. Again managing to make it look like she’s shouting at him when actually her voice is as quiet as a whisper. Or maybe that’s just because of the exaggerated eye rolling and the overdone lip movements with every word she says.

‘’God knows neither of you is going to make a move on your own,’’ she continues. ‘’So maybe some liquid courage will help you on your ways.’’ She wiggles her eyebrows.

‘’We’re not gonna have a freakin’ orgy in his office, Norah.’’ He’s trying to shock her, he knows. And it’s not going to work. He knows that too.

‘’Right now, I’d even settle for just a kiss on the cheek,’’ she responds coolly. Then a horrible realization comes to her mind. ‘’Wait… Please, tell me you two are not going to spend your entire evening sitting in a dusty office? Have you no sense at all, Elio.’’ She gives him a shove out of pure disbelief.

Someone at another table shushes at them frustratingly. They keep quiet for a few moments, waiting for the other students to stop paying attention to them. Norah mulls over every plan she can think of to get the boys out of that goddamned office. And Elio just stares at his hands, the nerves in his stomach tangling into an uncomfortable knot.

After a moment of silence, which feels like an eternity to Elio, Norah dares to speak again. She leans in close to Elio, whispering in his ear. ‘’You know, I was planning on going to that Irish Pub on 54thstreet tonight. With a few others. ‘’

‘’Since _when?’’_

She takes his hand and gets up from the table, leaving her stuff behind. ‘’I’ll be right back,’’ she says to her study group, ‘’just going out for a smoke.’’ She puts on her coat and leaves the library while towing Elio along with her.

Elio is on her case the very moment they step outside. ‘’Why this sudden plan? You didn’t tell me about any of this yesterday.’’

‘’I don’t know,’’ she shrugs, way overdoing the innocent look. ‘’I just got talking with Mandy this morning and saw the state she was in. That girl seriously needs some fun! Or even just a few hours out of that house. I don’t think she’s left your apartment for more than one hour at a time in the last two weeks. So I figured tonight was as good a time as any.’’ She’s all sweet smiles and battering eyelashes.

Even though her façade is so obvious it’s almost laughable, Elio has to give it to her that she does speak sense. ‘’True, but… You really expect him to want to hang out with students?’’ Leave it to Elio to find a downside to every plan.

‘’Not just. Also Marino. You know how he keeps saying he likes to see Oliver again.’’

‘’You really think this is a good idea, don’t you?’’

‘’Yes. And far better than the alternative. ‘Cause knowing you, you’ll throw away this rare and wonderful opportunity to drink just one old man’s drink – like brandy or something,’’ she pinches her nose, ‘’and stay in his office for hours geeking out about some lame history stuff and leaving without as much as a kiss.’’

‘’…and that’s wrong because?’’

Everything that was influencing Norah’s expression disappears and there’s just one emotion left that takes them all over. A very specific one, with a very specific look, that bears the name: I’m-so-done-with-your-shit-Perlman-I’m-not-even-going-to-pretend-like-I’m-indulging-you-in-this-utter-stupidity-anymore.

It was a look that really didn’t appear that often, but when it did… Let’s just say Elio knew well from experience to just agree to everything Norah suggested. He would regret doing anything else in the long term. ‘’Okay, okay, I’ll ask if he wants to come along to the Irish pub.’’

 


	4. three

Elio’s last class ends early. Any other day this would have been a blessing, especially on a Friday. But this time he was the only student in the classroom who sighed with frustration rather than delight. The hours waiting for Oliver’s work to be done were going to be dreadful. The minutes would tick by like hours, he knew _that_ from experience.

How many more times would he have to wait on Oliver like this?Only hoping the end result would be anything like he barely dared to dream of anymore? Would he finally make a move? And who would do it? Either of them, both of them? Would liquid courage finally do the trick?

He made himself crazy thinking of all the possibilities, burning through almost a whole pack of smokes. Even his mother would scold him for this amount in such little time – and she was the chimney of the family! _Well, one conclusion is undeniable,_ Elio thought to himself, _I’m definitely a stress-smoker._ But they did get him through those unbearably long hours, so he’ll always be thankful to them.

He tugs away the pack – or what’s left of it – in his pocket and sits down. Right in the middle of the staircase across from the lecture hall where Oliver is teaching his last class. If he concentrates hard, and when the rest of the building is quiet, he can hear Oliver’s voice seep through the walls. He doesn’t catch actual words of course, but he can recognize other sounds. Particular the one of laughter. Oliver is quite the entertainer, Elio finds out. And – total sap that he is – he can’t help but laugh along with Oliver’s students. The more they laugh though, the more he has to suppress the urge to join them. He _could_ slip in quietly from the back. Leave the door open and no one would notice or hear. Hopefully.

No, he couldn’t take that risk. Not this far into the lecture. The chance that the hall is full or that he would make too much noise was too great. He would just have to be patient and wait. Fifteen more minutes. Fifteen minutes and his suffering would finally be over.

The fifteen minutes, as it turns out, are only ten. Without warning the door suddenly swings open and a giant group of loudly chattering twenty-somethings come pooling out. They leave the lecture hall so quickly – enthusiastic for the start of the weekend no doubt – that within no-time it’s just Oliver, standing alone in front of his blackboard. And Elio sitting alone on the stairwell, watching him. Oliver doesn’t notice; too caught up in his work. He cleans the board first and then collects all the stuff he used for the lecture. Elio can see it all through the door left open by the last student who left the lecture hall.

Oliver proceeds to put away his things in his bag – which he can’t, because it’s already too full, so he just holds the rest of the papers under his arm. Then he shuts of all the lights and fishes a great set of keys out of his pocket. He shuts the door behind himself and locks it, balancing the stack of papers under his arm. Only when he spins around, towards the staircase, he notices the boy with the green eyes and dark curls waiting for him.

His eyes turn wide in surprise and a broad smile spreads across his face. ‘’Elio!’’ Part of him looks almost relieved. Like he’d been really worried Elio wouldn’t show. ‘’Hey.’’

Elio smiles back and feels his cheeks heat up instantly. ‘’Hi.’’

It seems to spark some kind of reaction in Oliver, ‘cause all of the sudden he’s all business. He holds out his hand for Elio to take. ‘’Come,’’ he says. ‘’Walk with me.’’

Elio scrambles to pick up his things after he lets go of his hand. Oliver is already two flights of stairs ahead of him when he starts walking. _Why is he in such a hurry?_

They enter Oliver’s dark office and a heavy silence falls over them. Not one filled with uncomfortable tension, necessarily. More an electric tension of possibilities. When Oliver spins around to close the door right behind Elio, there is this moment when they’re standing _really_ close. For one wild second he thinks Oliver is going to kiss him. But it passes as quickly as it had come when Oliver suddenly jumps away and crosses the small space to switch on the lights. And once those glaring and unflattering lamps are on, the tension disappears. Elio inhales deeply like he’s coming up for air. _Am I imagining all this?_

‘’Want a drink?’’ Oliver offers.

Elio nods, momentarily speechless.

Without pushing him to elaborate Oliver sets down two glasses and pulls up a chair for his guest. Meanwhile he himself sits down in his regular seat behind the desk. With Elio’s chair standing at the other end, the desk firmly in the middle, the status quo of the night couldn’t have been made more clear. Elio felt his bravery sink through the floor. Slowly but steadily dripping down, completely disappearing. _How am I ever going to boldly ask him to a bar now?_

With a desperate attempt to get any kind of encouragement, in whatever form, he picks up his glass the moment it’s full and chucked the whole thing. It burns. All the way down his throat and then towards his stomach. Only for the sensation to come up again and reach his eyes, making them watery.

‘’Wow, hold on sailor!’’ Oliver yelps in surprise, his own glass still in hand. Still entirely full of course.

It’s clear he wants to say something else but Elio is faster. Or maybe just louder. The moment Oliver opens his mouth he practically screams, ‘’Want to go to a bar?’’

‘’Uhh,’’ Oliver hesitates, looking at Elio like he’s trying to decide if he’s either possessed or gone temporarily insane.  ‘’What kind of bar?’’ He asks after a moment, pronouncing each word slowly, choosing them carefully.

For a quick and insane moment Elio thinks Oliver might imply he thought Elio wanted to go to a gay bar. But no, it couldn’t be. The alcohol hitting his empty stomach must be making him a little delusional.

‘’An Irish Pub,’’ he says.

The answer seems to relieve Oliver. But also gives him a moment more to think about it. The seconds tick by and Elio feels his humiliation wash over him. _What was I thinking?_ It’s only when he’s completely sure Oliver will refuse him, that the blonde opens his mouth to speak. ‘’Okay,’’ he says simply.

‘’Okay,’’ Elio repeats.

And that’s that.

Ten minutes later they’re on their way. Oliver had the common sense of insisting on them grabbing some pizza on their way. He joked that he thought Elio’s stomach wouldn’t survive the night if he intended on continuing with the drinking style he had showed back in his office. Elio wanted to protest, in a last attempt to defend his dignity, but all thought left him the moment he smelled the food. Even for an Italian born he had to admit the Pizzeria Oliver had found _definitely_ knew what it was doing. His stomach grumbled in response and Oliver laughed.

After the pizza Elio’s mind turns clear again. Enough to finally remember he’d left out a pretty crucial piece of information to Oliver.

‘’So… uhh, at this bar...’’ He starts.

Oliver glances back at him as they walk along the busy streets of Manhattan. They were only about a block away from the pub now.

‘’Yeah?’’ he urges cheerfully when Elio doesn’t continue. The tiny hint of alarm in his voice was barely detectable. 

Elio looks down. ‘’Well, it’s actually a friend of mine who came up with the idea. She’s already there. With some people from school, my roommate and one of my cousins.’’

To Oliver’s credit, he only looks a little bit baffled. ‘’Okay,’’ he says, sounding more guarded than he looks. He lets out a chuckle. ‘’Were you worried you’d get bored of me?’’ He pokes the other boy playfully in the side.

But Elio’s response is all seriousness. ‘’More like the other way around,’’ he mutters before he can stop himself.

‘’And there you go putting yourself down again… Aren’t we friends?’’

The corners of his mouth go up, up, up. But because Elio is still Elio, he can’t help himself but play it cool. ‘’I guess we are.’’ He tries to make his voice sound as indifferent on the outside as he definitely doesn’t feel on the inside.

It won’t scare away Oliver though. ‘’Now, I don’t know about you, but I usually don’t become friends with people I find boring.’’

Elio doesn’t know how to respond to that. No snarky comments or laidback reactions come to mind.

‘’Maybe it’s just that I wanted you to get to know them better,‘’ he admits, the composed indifference slowly slipping away.

Oliver smiles one of his brilliant ‘muvi-star’ smiles. ‘’I’d like that, too,’’ he allows.

‘’And Marino keeps asking about you,’’ Elio quickly adds, referring to the cousin Oliver met back in Italy and taking the attention away from himself before he can stupidly admit to anymore insecurities.

‘’Yeah, how _is_ that cheeky cousin of yours these days?’’

‘’Even more cheeky than when you met him.’’

Oliver laughs. Elio feels himself not able to suppress his own smile every time he hears the sound.

_Oh, I’m in so much trouble…_


	5. four

The bar is crowded, but not too much. Just enough for Norah’s small group not to stand out. They sit in a booth shaped like half a circle, a big pitcher on the table with glasses for everyone to take from it.

Norah spots them almost immediately. She stands up from her table without a word to the others, leaving them in their heated conversation. She crosses the area by practically dancing through the room, ever graceful and quick as she is. Elio feels like he only haa to blink once and she’s there, by his side, throwing her arms around his neck. ‘’Elly Belly. You actually came!’’ She laughs as he hugs her back, pretending he didn’t hear that tone of surprise.

He looks back at the man next to him the moment she lets go. ‘’Oliver, you know Norah,’’ he gestures once between them.

‘’Hi,’’ he says without skipping a beat and flashes that brilliant smile of his. ‘’It’s good to see you again.’’

Norah shakes the hand he extends. ‘’Maybe even get to talk to you this time,’’ Norah counters, her voice filled with fake indignation. She purposely looks from the man before her back to her best friend after her sly reference to Elio’s over-protective and paranoid behavior of his relationship with Oliver. He _might_ have been a little too obvious in keeping Oliver from meeting any of the other people in his life…

But he was not about to admit to that. ‘’What are you looking at me for?!’’

Norah sighs and shakes her head. ‘’Whatever,’’ she says, clearly ready to move on. With one swift movement she places herself in between them and grabs them both by the arm. ‘’Now let’s get you two both a beer glass; you’ve got some catching up to do!’’

It’s like Norah is the bartender-whisperer ‘cause it practically takes three seconds for two huge pints to appear before them when they make a quick stop at the bar. Elio considers himself seriously impressed.

They reach their booth a second later. Norah makes quick introductions for all of them. But the words have barely left her mouth or Marino is already taking over conversation.

 ‘’Hey, cous’. Hey, Oliver,’’ his voice booms. ‘’It’s good to see you two!’’ He stands up to make room for them.

Elio just nods and smiles to him in greeting, but Oliver has quite a different reaction. He lets out a surprised laugh. ‘’Marino! Is that really you?’’ Undoubtedly referring to how Marino had just been a scrawny teenager the last time they saw each other.

Marino throws his arms high in the air, more than a little proud of himself. ‘’In the flesh,’’ he beams.

‘’Wow, it’s good to see you. I didn’t know you lived in New York,’’ he says, glancing at Elio.

‘’For quite a while now; even longer than I have,’’ Elio cut in. ‘’Did I never tell you?’’ His tone is sharper than he intended to. _Why am I so tense?_

Oliver shrugs off the question with a self mocking joke about his memory being the first to go. Everybody laughs; the ice officially broken.

Mandy – don’t let the name fool you; her heritage is as French as can be – takes over conversation with Oliver then. Unsurprisingly, the Classical Art student and the Classical Art professor really hit it off. Before long, they’re discussing all sorts of art movements and the people who influenced them. Which for Elio just means a bunch of names being thrown around he’s supposed to know from childhood. But don’t actually do more to jog his memory than ring a bell with their recognizable sound.

After a few rounds, and Marino leaving, their conversation gets a swift turn and it goes from Classical antiquity to French culture. And from the art of sculptures to the art of film. They were talking about a French movie, from some years ago, with Kristin Scott Thomas. _Il y a longtemps que je t'aime_ , it was called. And – in his ever eager manner to explain things, like learning and teaching we’re both sides of the same exciting coin to him – Oliver just had to point out how the title was wrong. How the sentence that was made in it wasn’t grammatically correct. Which, of course, Mandy and Elio agreed on. But it also pulled another reaction from Elio’s ever sharp roommate that the boys hadn’t expected.

‘’You speak French?’’ she asks him, point blank.

Oliver’s cheeks heat up before he tries to hide his interest with an unconvincing shrug. Elio feels Norah’s significant look and smug smile like literal pressure on his own face. He knows exactly what she’s thinking. Something he’d been trying very hard _not_ to think.

‘’No,’’ Oliver says quickly. ‘’Not good at least.’’

Mandy cocks her head to the side, unconvinced. Instead of pushing by asking, or dropping the subject altogether – the two options anyone else would take – she just looks at him, an eyebrow raising. No one can stay silent with this gaze weighing on them – Elio knows from experience.

‘’Yeah, I’ve been trying to learn some French,’’ Oliver admits sheepishly.

‘’Hmm,’’ Mandy murmurs while taking that in. ‘’But why? You are a classical art professor. Wouldn’t it make much more sense to learn Greek or Latin? Or maybe Italian even.’’ Mandy could never help herself but point out things that seemed illogical to her. Also pressing quite a few buttons while doing it.

Oh, how Elio felt himself ripped between two very strong desires, both the complete opposite of each other. On the one hand he wanted nothing more than to have Oliver look at him and admit he was learning _his_ native language – the one he didn’t know yet and was like gibberish to him – all because of Elio. But on the other hand he wished with fiery passion that he could make this whole conversation disappear, make it undone. Either for the fact that they weren’t alone and this was too private for Mandy – of all people – to get a glimpse of. Or just because of the smallest chance that it wasn’t true. That Oliver wasn’t learning French because of Elio at all.

Thank heavens, that was the moment when Norah felt it was time for her to speak up. ‘’God, Mandy, leave the poor man alone! French is a beautiful language. You know, the stuff of love and romance and all that.’’ Elio definitely didn’t miss her eyebrows raising provocatively at him when she said that. ‘’Isn’t that reason enough to want to learn it.’’ And with that, the subject was dropped.

Of course, Elio should have known better; Norah was only saving him now from this subject to bring it up later, and press the issue probably even harder. He stole a peek at Oliver who seemed, all of the sudden, _very_ focused on the glass of beer in front of him. This toying, playing games with people and all these double meanings being thrown around all the time, made Elio miss the times he had been the one to do that. When he was the boldest one and trying to coax reactions with stupid move after stupid move. Those few short weeks of Italian summer when they’d only started to get to know each other. When friendship came with flirtations, and flirtations came with friendship. Confusing, yet – somehow – also simpler times.

How had he ended up the least bold one now? Had it come with age? Or was it just when it came to Oliver? Had their relationship become this simpler and sturdier thing as friendship took away most of the flirtatiousness? It felt calm and safe indeed, but was it really what he wanted? What _they_ wanted? Or were they just kidding themselves all along?

It was time for another round Norah decided then. Since Elio and Oliver hadn’t finished their dinks yet, they just had to chuck it to keep up. Which, of course, they did. No one could or should want to say no to Norah in these situations. Even Oliver caught on very quickly to that fact.

Another round came. And another. And another. Thrilling conversations coming up faster and easier with each round.

When the clock struck midnight, Mandy and the others were long gone. It was just the three of them now.

Before she left Mandy remembered to mention that she was leaving to stay at her parents house this weekend. Which resulted in another significant look from Norah to Elio. No Mandy meant no roommate. Which in turn meant Elio had his home all to himself for the whole weekend. He wasn’t going to be alone for long though, or at all, if Norah had her way.


	6. five

It’s the end of the night and the bar is closing. The boys are off paying the bill and Norah stands waiting outside, smoking a cigarette. Elio comes after her first. She offers him one too, but he refuses, needing the fresh air to clear his mind.

‘’Where’s Oliver?’’ she asks. ‘You didn’t tell him to bail on us, did you?’’

‘’No, he just needed to use the rest– wait… bail out on _what_?’’

‘’You know,’’ she says with a laugh, expecting this turn in the conversation beforehand.

She jiggles her eyebrows suggestively and takes a step closer to him. First he thinks she’s just going to kiss his cheek, but then she licks it and lightly scrapes the soft skin of his ear with her teeth. He flinches away, though only with his face. With his body he leans in and presses against her till she starts stepping back. Step after step until they’re pressed against the wall. This way Elio has the opportunity to look deep into her eyes, trying to uncover what is really going on.

‘’What are you planning? What is your game?’’

Norah smiles wickedly, her eyes gleaming with shameless delight. ‘’Nothing,’’ she says. ‘’I have no idea what you’re talking about, Elio.’’

It’s not her words that matter though. Like she’d intended, Elio only pays attention to her physical response. But he still doesn’t get it.

‘’It’s Oliver, isn’t it? You’re trying to trick him.’’

‘’Not just him.’’

Realization. ‘’You’re trying to trick _us_.’’ Into what though? ‘’But we’re leaving. _He_ is leaving. There is nothing more to do.’’

A smug, smug smile lights up Norah’s face. The most happy with herself he’s ever seen her. ‘’Well I might have gotten a promise from him,’’ she reveals ominously. Is she just trying to drive him crazy or get him to break down altogether?

‘’What kind of promise?’’ Elio presses unceremoniously. He doesn’t have the energy, clarity or peace of mind anymore to play games and beat around the bush. He must know. Now.

‘’That he’ll come home with us,’’ she drawls, ‘’for just one more drink,’’ implying anything but that.

A thousand and one thoughts run through Elio’s mind. He’s spellbound, mesmerized and frightened to his core. All at once. He doesn’t know how to react. He doesn’t know how to do anything anymore.

Of course, that’s the moment that Oliver steps outside. Thank goodness he doesn’t spot them immediately. Norah does notice him though. And she does the most evil thing she’s _ever_ done – in Elio’s opinion at least. Which is whisper, ‘’I wonder what he likes most in bed,’’ as she pushes Elio’s face in Oliver’s direction, just noticing him before the blonde turns in their direction. A high pitched, nervous little laugh escapes him. Which is the sound that makes Oliver finally discover them.

‘’Hey!’’ he exclaims delighted, looking just about as happy as Elio feels dreadful. ‘’There you are. What are you two chatting about?’’

‘’Nothing!’’ Elio all but yells right as Norah starts to say; ‘’We were just wondering what your favorite position-‘’ is all she gets out before Elio clamps a hand around her mouth. It’s a final, panicked move to make her silent, but just a bit too late since she’d already practically finished her sentence. He looks at Oliver, scared to death he’d heard everything. But, as it turns out – thanks to all that is holy – he hadn’t heard a thing. He’d been too far away and Elio’s voice had been too loud, drowning out her words far better than his hand was.

Oliver looks from Elio to Norah and back again, both of them frozen in place. ‘’What’s going on?’’ he quizzes. Looking a little embarrassed all of the sudden.

Norah pulls Elio’s hand away from her mouth enough to speak. Elio gives a warning pinch in the hand he’s still holding of hers. ‘’Elio’s just being an idiot. Nothing new.’’ _Good girl._ He breathes a sigh of relieve.

‘’Let’s go!’’ Norah grabs a fist full off of each of their coats and pulls them along as she heads to the nearest subway stop. The boys, both too slow to realize what’s really happening or to object, follow her obediently. It’s quite a comical sight. But most importantly, it gets the job done. It’s only half an hour later they end up in Elio’s little apartment, with no roommate in sight, the place all to themselves.


	7. six

_It’s the summer of 1983 and Elio is standing in his own room. His actual room. Not the temporary one he gets every summer. Not the storage room he had to make his own during six hot weeks every year. He was back in his own space after just three weeks. Faster than any year before, half of the time of any summer he could remember._

_But it had the opposite effect. More than ever Elio felt like a stranger among his own stuff. Disconnected from all the things that have always been his own._

_He didn’t want this back. He didn’t want to move back so quickly. Maybe not ever. Not if it meant…_

_He breathed. Not able to even think of it. Think of_ him _._

_Outwardly, it would seem to anyone, he hadn’t lost anything at all. Technically speaking he really hadn’t of course; except for two kisses and one obscure talk in broad daylight, nothing really happened. No actual relationship had formed. No promises made, no sexual experienced shared._

_So why did it_ feel _like this? Why did he feel like running back to his temporarily room, jump in bed and hide from the world underneath the covers? Why did he feel like crying and breaking down on the floor? Or throw a temper tantrum to make it all go away. To make time stop or run back or_ anything _!_

_It was in that moment – that very last second before he was ready to bolt – that he noticed something. There was something lying on the bed.  Something underneath the covers. First Elio’s covers, then Oliver’s covers and now Elio’s covers again. But what was lying underneath now, must still be from when it was Oliver’s covers. Something forgotten_

_As pulled by a magnet he starts walking. Step for step he closes the distance between him and the unknown square object. When he pulls away the covers in one fell swoop it is revealed to be a book._

_It’s an Italian book. Not Elio’s book. Probably Oliver’s book. He had never seen him with it though._

_He picks it up and reads the title. It’s a picture book of Italy. A small one. A beautiful one. Full with the most amazing prints of the most amazing landscapes that made Italy so unique. It felt like a punch in the gut to Elio that this was what Oliver had left behind. Like he had unintentionally and subconsciously left behind all the things that made an Italian summer so perfect. He had detached from it. Abandoned it, like he had abandoned Elio._

_Elio closed his burning eyes, pretending the wetness was not there. Stubbornly he ignored the tears slipping between his lashes, to spill over the rims there. He pretended like he couldn’t feel it and refused to rub them away. Instead he turned around and leaped right from the room._

_When he crosses the threshold between the two rooms he sniffs loudly and waits with his eyes closed till the tears are done running. He tries to think of something else, anything else. Though when he opens them again his attention is captured by something else to do with Oliver. It’s the small piece of paper he forgot was still lying on his desk. The note he and Oliver had exchanged back and forth underneath the door that separated them. It happened barely twenty-four hours ago, yet it felt like a lifetime. Everything was completely different now…_

_He wanted it gone, erased, away from everything else that was his. Put it somewhere he never would have to look at it again. A hiding place he had never used before and would never use again. Somewhere that wasn’t his._ Something _that wasn’t his._

_He looks back at the book he had thrown on his desk; lying open and half folded, like discarded trash. He picks it up, closes it and then opens it again to shove the note in the back of Oliver’s book. Then he walks back to his room, that still doesn’t feel like his own, and shoves in into the very back of the highest shelve of his bookcase. Every intention to never look at it again._


	8. seven

Elio’s room is not as tidy and clean as the rest of the apartment, but it’s doable. And for a student room in New York really, it’s quite spacious. Oliver walks around curiously, looking in wonder at everything on the walls and lying on his desk and windowsill. He asks about some things; the stories behind them. Other things he just stares at. Like Elio’s room is the most interesting museum he’s ever come across. It makes him feel vulnerable and exposed in, surprisingly, the best way. Now he has Oliver here, inspecting all his personal stuff so closely, he realizes how much he’s been longing for this. Longing for Oliver to see him. To really notice everything about him. It also makes him feel like they’re right back at the beginning, back in Italy, more than anything else. Because of the parallels of having Oliver back in a room that was his, surrounded by his stuff.

They are interrupted by Norah who’s made some strong mix drink that’s really not that bad. Elio makes a mental note to himself that he should start looking for better hiding spots for his liquor. Though, really, Norah probably knows his home better than himself, so what’s the point…

Elio is slumped on his couch, playing the guitar. Norah and Oliver on his bed. They play a self-invented music game: Elio plays different tunes on his guitar and the other two have to guess where they’re from. He plays melodies from commercials, pop songs, old songs, movie themes; the list goes on and on. He notices Oliver is actually quite good at it. Definitely faster than Norah. Yet, she has the better voice when it comes to singing along.

The game is stopped when Oliver has to leave the room to use the bathroom. It’s only been one second when Norah jumps up from the bed. She crosses the area with purpose. Right over to Elio’s full bookcase. There she picks up a book she has never opened before – as far as Elio knows.

It is that one special book. The one he doesn’t want to remember but can’t seem to forget. He hasn’t looked at it in so many years. Only glanced at it briefly when he’d moved here. Shoved it in his new bookcase while unpacking his stuff. Never looked at it again.

‘’What’s this?’’ She asks, her tone surprised. Though her voice just laying it on a little too thick.

Elio zeros in on what she’s holding and his suspicions are confirmed. Though really, it’s _just_ a book. Why would he have to be scared of a book? What can a book, that wasn’t even his, reveal?

Elio shrugs. ‘’Just some old book,’’ he says, hoping that playing it cool will do the trick.

 But it’s clear on Norah’s face he isn’t fooling anyone. She holds his gaze while slowly lifting the cover. Then, as she arches one perfect eyebrow, she lifts the piece of paper that she knew was hiding in there. ‘’Oh, yeah,’’ she mocks, ‘’Then what is _this_?’’

Elio’s face goes up in flames in one second. Right along with his cool attitude. His cheeks and forehead become bright, bright red and he can feel his heartbeat in his throat. Both his anger and his shame are jumbled into one overwhelming emotion that feels a lot like betrayal. He feels betrayed by Norah _and_ by himself.

‘’That’s none of your business,’’ he hisses the moment his voice returns to him. He leaps from the couch and snatches the paper from Norah’s hands.

Norah doesn’t even have the decency to look guilty, but she does seem to feel for him ‘’I know,’’ she says softly. ‘’And it’s true. But it _is_ someone else’s.’’

‘’If you already know what it is, then why are you asking about it?’’ Elio bites back, still seething.

The shock has worn out. And the longer he looks into Norah’s eyes, the more he feels the anger drain away too. She isn’t doing this to hurt him, he knows that full well. She’s trying to make him act on his buried feelings. Or make him at the very least acknowledge that they’re there. Still there. Always there.

Norah levels him with one of those best friend stares she only masters once she’s about to tell him something he doesn’t want to hear. ‘’Look, this just proves he wants you.’’

‘’No, it doesn’t. That was just one of the many, many things he could have meant with this.’’

Norah makes a snorting sound that oozes with skepticism. _Why is she being so difficult?_

‘’And even if it means what you think it does… ‘’ Elio continues, scrambling for anything to make her see the sense he sees. ‘’That was three and a half years ago. Nothing is the same.’’

The look of disbelieve changes into one of sympathy. ‘’You only believe that because you don’t see what I see.’’

They look at each other for a few moments longer. Each of them trying to convince the other with the sheer force of will manifested through their eyes. Neither of them wafers for a moment. It was actually something else entirely that stopped their contest; the sound of water running. Oliver was done in the bathroom now and he could be back any moment.

Elio stretched out his hand to snatch back the book from Norah but she was just quick enough to pull away. ‘’No, no, Perlman, you won’t get off so easily this time.’’

He crumbled the piece of paper in his hand. ‘’Just give me the book and let me put it away,’’ he hisses back, right at the moment the door opens.

Elio just misses when he tries to grasp the book one last time and spins around to face Oliver. He composes his face somewhat and tries to smile. Oliver tightens his eyes. It’s clear he feels something is going on. It’s also clear he has no clue as to what it is. ‘’What’s up?’’

Elio and Norah answer at the same time. Yet Elio’s yell, somewhat containing the word, ‘’Nothing,’’ definitely overshadows Norah’s, ‘’Just an important message.’’ Both of them hold up their hands while they speak. Elio like a guilty criminal to an approaching officer and Norah like a  traffic-cop to stop an oncoming speeder. He holds up a crumbled piece of paper he is desperately trying to hide in his fist. And she holds up a book in full view of the person she is trying to stop.

Oliver laughs. Then recognition crosses his face. ‘’Hey! Which book is that?’’

In Elio’s panic he can’t think of anything to say or do. This time Norah is faster and overshadows Elio. She takes a step forward and starts to speak in clear articulated sentences. ‘’It’s a picture book of Italy. You recognize it, don’t you? That’s because it’s yours.’’

‘’Mine… ‘’ Oliver mouths, his face completely blank as he takes the book from her. It’s like the calm before the storm, as visualized in human emotion.

He looks up at Elio, but Elio is staring at Norah. Looking at her like he’s watching a tragic traffic accident unfold in slow-motion, before his very eyes. And there’s nothing he can do about it. Nothing he can do to make it stop. And the worst is still to come. He knows that too.

‘’Oliver, do you love Elio?’’

Beat. Total silence.

‘’Uhh…’’ Oliver’s mouth hangs open in total shock.

Another beat.

‘’Norah!’’ Elio hisses.

‘’Shut up.’’ She turns back to Oliver. ‘’Do you love him? And I don’t mean like a friend.’’

Oliver snaps his mouth shut, his jaw regaining control. ‘’I don’t see how this is… ‘’

‘’Yeah, I know it’s not my business. And I wouldn’t make it mine if you two weren’t being so incredibly stupid. So don’t tell me. Don’t give the answer to my question to me; give it to the only one who’s business it is.’’

And with that speech she grabs back the piece of paper from Elio and shoves it in Oliver’s hand as she passes him. She stalks out of the room, closing the door behind her without another word. The boys are left behind speechless and with faces as blank as their minds.

 


	9. eight

Oliver straightens the crumbled piece of paper and reads the slightly faded lines it contains. And all Elio can do is stare and watch it happen. See how his eyes widen when they take in the two different kinds of handwriting. See how his mouth falls open as he reads the words and recognizes the message from the past. But to Elio’s utter astonishment, it seems to delight him.  

Oliver smiles. He even laughs to himself as his hand runs over the paper. His fingertips touch it like he needs to test if it’s real. Like he thinks the moment he reaches for it, it will disappear. But it doesn’t. He looks up. ‘’I can’t believe you actually kept it.’’

Elio shrugs. ‘’It’s nothing.’’

Oliver seems to be taken aback a little. Elio’s indifference was clearly not something he was expecting in this moment. Oliver appraises him with a piercing gaze. ‘’Do _you_ think it’s nothing?’’

He’s caught off guard. ‘’No,’’ he admits.

Oliver takes a step forward. Elio looks away, every muscle in his body tightens. _How did I get to this point?_ He bites his lip and tightens his jaw. He feels like he might scream if he doesn’t keep his mouth securely shut. He _wants_ to scream.

He hears Oliver take another step. ‘’Elio?’’ the man offers calmly. But Elio won’t react. ‘’Please look at me.’’

Elio knows Oliver will just walk over to him and force him to cross gazes if he doesn’t oblige. Either way, Oliver will get what he wants, what he’s asking for. Better to obey on his own terms than wait for that to happen. _At least I’m not crying_ , is the last thing that crosses Elio’s mind before he turns his head to look Oliver squarely in the eye.

Judging by Oliver’s reaction, Elio’s expression is unlike anything he’s ever seen before. There’s clear surprise and disturbed shock on the man’s face.

 ‘’I’m sorry,’’ He says.

Elio is surprised. ‘’For what? You have nothing to be sorry for.’’

 ‘’Maybe,’’ he allows. ‘’But I am.’’

It feels like the last nail in the coffin within which their non-relationship is securely laid to rest in. Elio looks down, defeated. ‘’So you regret it, right? I thought you might.’’

‘’Regret what?’’

Elio gestures between them vaguely. ‘’For whatever this was. Or wasn’t.’’

 Oliver’s voice becomes incredulous. ‘’You think I regret kissing you? Regret wanting to be with you?’’

‘’…be with me?’’

‘’Yeah, what else did you think ‘meeting up at midnight’ meant? Having a nice tea party on the balcony! No, I wanted to slee– ‘’ he suddenly stops, recomposing himself. ‘’I wanted to spend the night with you.’’

‘’Oh.’’

It takes Elio a long, long moment to let letting Oliver’s words sink in. And it takes an even longer moment for him to recover.

He feels the very ground beneath him has shifted. Like everything he thinks to be true could be questioned. But this is no time for thinking. That comes later. This time is for acting. Right now. ‘’Do you still want that?’’

Oliver nods slowly. His eyes are dark and his cheeks turn red. Slowly he walks over to Elio’s side. He moves like a man in trance, seeing only one thing at the end of the tunnel. Elio leans toward him without realizing he’s moving. Oliver comes to a halt right in front of him, their legs, knees and feet touching. The older reaches for the younger, holding his face between his hands. Elio thinks he’s going to launch right in then and there. But Oliver opens his mouth to speak instead of kiss. 

‘’Can I kiss you?’’ He asks as he strokes those dark curls out of Elio’s green and amber eyes.

‘’Yes, please,’’ Elio replies without as much as a breath passing between their words, his mouth already open.

They’re lips crash, meeting each other half way. It’s sweet and hot at the same time. Perfect and in sync yet chaotic and clumsy. It’s everything it should be. Everything they thought they would never get. Everything both of them had thought about during the past three and a half years. It all had finally come full circle.

**Author's Note:**

> Made it through all the way to the end?? Yay! Please leave a comment of (honestly) what you think of it; you'd make my day/week/month<3 Also if it's just to give me feedback on what could be better.  
> I'm right now working on a second part to this story with a lot more explicity (yeah, the sexy times are comingXD), so hang around if you're curious what happens to the boys after their kiss...


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